Eight Ways (To Say I Love You)
by SkyandIris
Summary: "Even when she's pissed as hell at him, she has to know. He's never gotten so bent out of shape, drunk off his ass over anyone else but her. Never had a jealous fit over anyone but her. Never been so crazy, so stupidly in love that she could ask him to wear a dress and take Samba lessons with her and he'd probably eventually give in."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Don't know where this came from. But I do know how much I love the dynamic between Dom and Letty and how ready I am for F6 to come out. So. Kinda inspired by "8 Ways To Say I Love You" by R. McKinley. And "8 ways" probably means "8 parts" unless this is as disjointed as it should for being written at 2am while listening to Fugitive Songs. Mostly "Annie's Party" Also, yeah, I have a problem with parenthesis. **

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For the first time in what must be _ages_, Letty doesn't show up to a party at the Toretto house. Mia shrugs him off when he demands to know where she is, but that's definitely a rather heated glare she shoots him as she heads into the kitchen for a drink.

_Oh_ yeah, he's in deep shit. (Dom never quite understood Mia and Letty's relationship, he'd never seen two people more polar opposites of each other and yet they could spend hours holed up in Mia's bedroom just _talking_. He knew Letty's patience for girly shit was thin and Mia's tolerance for shop talk only lasted so long, and he's not arrogant enough to assume their only common ground is having the misfortune of loving _him_, but he always wished he could eavesdrop on them. Mia had a knack for knowing exactly when he was creeping outside her door, though, and either turned up that classical shit she knew gave him a headache or sent Letty out to threaten him)

In hindsight, he knew the blonde (she'd probably appeared somewhere between Letty scoring $4,000 and Vince rounding the corner of the trailer as Dom tried to get Letty off against it, because he can't be sure) was probably going to try something, if the way she eyed him like a porkchop was any indication. Knew that last drink was a bad idea and that he should've gone straight after Letty as soon as she had stormed away into the night. That guy probably _was _just asking which car she drove, but _God_, she made him so stupid sometimes and he _knew_ she could probably do better than an idiot like him, and it just made him crazy to see any clean-cut chump near her (even though he _also_ knew he should know better. She's just as messy and broken as he is and would chew up a guy like that for breakfast and she's only had eyes for him for _how_ long? But it still doesn't make him feel any better to see them talking so _close_) So yeah, he'd pissed her off and she'd disappeared into the crowds but Mia hadn't been too far behind, probably eager for an excuse to get away from Vince and _whatshername_'s make out session right next to her as much as she was (probably unnecessarily) concerned about a pissed-off Letty going it alone.

But the alcohol mixed with the desert air had made him sluggish and he couldn't bring himself to move, and before he knew it, blondie's hand was at his waistband and he didn't (couldn't) do much to stop her besides shift away with a frown. And _of fucking course _Mia and Letty had to come back at that_ exact_ moment, and it was all his sister and a surprisingly alert Vince could do to manhandle his spitfire girlfriend into the trailer before she unleashed some of that Dominican fury she kept bottled up, but the woman in question had already been (quite literally) dumped to the dirt. She'd shacked up with Mia that night, squished between the youngest Toretto and the cold metal side of the camper, ridden back with Vince who he _knew _had driven her crazy with the totalitarian control he enforces over the radio, and she had probably gone straight to her place to crash when they'd made it back into civilization. Vince had chewed him out (He found Vince and Letty's sibling-like relationship rather comforting, knowing that someone else would always have her back and _not_ stare at her backside, except when Vince took the big brother thing quite literally and made it _very_ clear that he'd do his best to beat Dom's ass if he fucked things up with her for a dime a dozen racer chaser)

As was tradition, they announced their return from a successful trip to Race Wars with a crowd and music and alcohol, but Dominic Toretto didn't feel like celebrating. So, he starts on the whiskey instead. Mia perches next to him with a beer (he can't find the energy to scold her still-underage ass but makes a note to lecture her later when he's sober) and her hawk eyes keeps every other woman at bay. For such a little Suzy Homemaker, she sure can instill fear in the hearts of skanks, a trait he's not so sure is a product of being a Toretto or being friends with Letty for so long.

_Letty._

And now he misses her, the way she presses into his side when she plays video games and insists on a kiss every time she beats someone's ass. She's scary good at them, and while Dom held reign over the streets outside, Letty definitely controlled the streets on the TV screen (he'd once practiced for weeks, only to have her wipe the floor with him _yet again,_ and after that he'd decided his pride needed no more beating in that particular arena. Vince had torn the hell out of him for weeks, still did sometimes, but he'd fared no better against Letty than he did so he had no room to gloat)

He stumbles to his feet, and Mia eyes him critically. He rolls his eyes at her, tells her he's just going to bed and to make sure everyone is gone before the sun comes up. Vince is too caught up in his newest fling, a Russian import named _Katya_ to be bothered with, so he just knocks him on the head on his way by (he wasn't at all concerned as to where a grown-ass woman who has proved herself _more_ than capable of handling herself, time and time again of course, was spending her Monday night and, as always, was less than helpful when he'd spoken to him earlier. Dom had snatched his beer and stalked over to the couch, ignoring the string of curses Vince let out and took a long gulp of cold Corona)

His feet drag up the stairs and he swipes the phone from the table, dragging it into his room and sinking against the door. He dials her number, hoping she's awake and will actually answer.

She doesn't.

The whiskey seems to catch up to him just as the beep sounds, and the words just start coming.

"_Fuck_, Let...I'm sittin' here like a punk...you're probably asleep or just ignorin' me and I'm drunk as fuck and I just, I _love _you. Okay?"

He wakes up in the morning with the phone still in his hand, his back aching and a jackhammer drilling into his skull in tune with the dial tone.

He doesn't even bother to change (he'll just get sweaty under the jumpsuit anyways, he figures), just focuses on making it to the garage without hurling. She's already there, halfway under a car and already streaked with grease. He waits for her to mention the message, to acknowledge the fact that he'd professed his love for only the _third_ time on her goddamn answering machine, but she doesn't. He doesn't even see her face until an hour later, when he's feeling less green (and more awake now that Mia had brought a medicine bottle, water, and _another_ glare) She's sweaty and looks exhausted and he just wants to pull her into his arms, but she won't even meet his eyes as she takes a long drag from her half-empty bottle. A bit of water drips down her chin and she swipes at it absently, and he's not sure if she's just that skilled at freezing him out or if she's just in her own little world for the time being.

The silence all day absolutely kills him though, having her so close yet so far away, and his hangover on top of it all makes him a grouchy mess. He'd just gone off on the new kid they'd hired when her hands grab either side of his jumpsuit, pushing him up against the car as the kid makes himself scarce. Even if he'd only worked there a few weeks, he knew what came next.

She kisses him hard, biting into his bottom lip and pinning his much larger frame with her hips. He knows better than to touch her when she's like this, but his hands twitch with the desire to _feel_. She smells like sweat and grease and something uniquely _her_ underneath it all, something that reminded him of their childhoods and the garden her mother had once attempted to grow (between vodka binges) in front of their house down the street. Her hands softly move from his chest up to his shoulders, slowly pulling the gray suit down with her fingers. He tilts his head, swiping his tongue at her upper lip and her hands stop at just above his forearms, her fingers gently curling around his elbows and he can't stop himself. One hand cups her jaw, curls around the back of her head, the other sinks down to rest on the patch of skin revealed at her hip and gently smooths along the bone. His grouchiness dissipates somewhere along the line, as her tongue flicks against his teeth and her lips almost smile against him as he groans into her mouth.

It ends as quickly as it started though, the sound of gravel crunches outside as a car drives by and he growls at the loss of contact. She gives him a look, tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and before she can react, his hand closes around her wrist and yanks her back to him, brings her into a slow kiss that probably would've curled her toes if she wasn't wearing those combat boots she has such an affinity for. She licks her lips as she pulls away, a habit he doesn't even think she's aware of, and pops a stick of gum into her mouth as she walks away. Leans over the hood of car she's working on and blows a bubble, cursing in Spanish as it pops loudly, unhappy at whatever she sees there (he picks out _pendejo_ easily, but the rest is lost between angry _pops_ and the scuffling of her feet as she moves to take another swig of water. Oh, and there was _chela,_ spat out with a frown along with some other intelligible words at the lukewarm liquid) Wipes her hand on her pants, cocks her hip to one side sniffs distastefully. It was some rich boy's car, one who liked to think he knew shit about making it faster and had a _very_ specific list of _very_ shitty parts he wanted (Letty had a bit more integrity than him and it always annoyed her when she had to ruin a car with such potential with junk she wouldn't even put _near_ her Nissan, no matter how good the money was)

Fuck, he loves her. Even when she's pissed as hell at him, she _has _to know. He's never gotten so bent out of shape, drunk off his ass over anyone else but her. Never had a jealous fit over anyone but her. Never been so crazy, so _stupidly _in love that she could ask him to wear a dress and take Samba lessons with her and he'd probably eventually give in. He'd pretend to hate it, but if it made her happy, brought out that genuine, heartbreakingly gorgeous smile of hers, he'd do just about anything that she goddamn wanted. And it's not that it wasn't mutual, because it was. Without a doubt. He knew that he drove Letty just as crazy, if not more so. But she was _good _with words, knew how to diffuse his temper or rile him up with just a few syllables. Could reassure him with just a sentence, turn what she was _feeling_ into actual words that didn't make her sound like a complete dumbass.

(Little known fact about Leticia Ortiz: she was incredibly intelligent, despite most of her free time being spent underneath a car instead of at a table doing homework like Mia had. If he'd thought she wouldn't have tried to run him over right after her graduation, Dom would've attempted bullying her into higher education. He sees her with Mia sometimes, though, flipping through the college books with something akin to curiosity and he wonders if, in some alternate universe, her mother would've elected to stay in Texas after leaving the Dominican Republic. Maybe Letty would've gone off to college on some fancy scholarship and become a doctor or a lawyer or a teacher or a housewife. The image of _Letty_ driving a minivan with a bunch of kids in back never failed to make him laugh every once in a while. Right before that little pang of _want_ set in and he pushed those thoughts away for more currently attainable ones)

On the other hand, _his _words just rushed out. Slurred declarations of love to an answering machine. Grunts into her ear as he moved heavily on top of her. Words that came up in the middle of fights that left her staring at him in complete and utter shock (Yeah, he had to work on tact, that was for sure. Shouting "Because I fucking love you" isn't exactly the most romantic way to let a girl know she's your everything) and his heart pounding in his chest, reminding him of why everything with _her_ was so different (Not that he had any experience in the actual _relationship_ department, discounting the random hookups and that huge fucking mistake with that punkass Tran's sister. Which, in hindsight, was really only to piss Johnny Tran off and it worked like a charm, so it was sort of a success)

She still doesn't talk to him for the rest of the day, besides to ask for the wrench he'd been using, and she hardly looks up to take it from him. Worries her lip between her teeth before she heads off to The Racer's Edge for who knows what, makes a stop at Toretto's to see Mia and doesn't return for almost two hours. But she comes home with him (And no matter how much she protests, it _is _her home. He doubts she even has edible food at her house anymore. He'd have to talk to her eventually about it, about making it all official and whatnot but that also required words and he _definitely_ needs time to think of a better way to ask than "Just fucking move in and sell that dump already, we could use the money")

She showers with him, he shampoos the grease out and conditions the tangles from her hair and she shaves the stubble off his head afterwards, and they lay down together in _their_ room. Fingers entwined and content in the dark.

"I do, you know." He mumbles, and he knows her so well he can hear her grin and the accompanying eyeroll as she throws her warm leg over his, presses her lips to his jaw.

"Yeah, I know."

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I was gonna post this on my birthday Saturday but I ended up partaking in an all-day Resident Evil marathon. Better late than never. **

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He's nearly blindsided by how much he loves her.

He doesn't say it enough, he knows. (Like an unspoken agreement between them, those three words are reserved for only select moments, rarely uttered around anyone but each other. But they _know_)

One night, she's busting his ass about being overprotective of Mia (not an unusual occurrence, as Mia has long passed the stage of needing-or wanting-_big brother _to hover over her with his fists and had moved completely onto purposefully pissing him off on a regular basis)

Mia was pissed, though. Had enough nerve to throw the toaster (Dom's toast still inside, until it's laying on the tile) at him before storming upstairs. Before Letty was even sure that his face wasn't too smashed in, she was laughing. She always knew the younger girl was all Toretto, no matter how well she hid it behind her long hair and floral print.

She can _feel _his anger though, long after he angrily shoves the plug of the toaster back into the wall and puts two more slices of bread in it. Mia had left the previous night with a boy, returned with smudged makeup and messy hair and a defiant glint in her eyes (and in typical Dom fashion, he ignored the fact that Mia was an adult capable of making her own choices)

She slowly slides her hand around his bicep, the muscle flexing under her hand. He's still staring moodily out the window, but his features soften a little as she presses her lips to his skin.

"You gotta let her be her own person, Dom." She says gently, muffled by his arm as she talks (sense) into him. He tenses a little more, but she rubs along his back with her other hand and he brings his hand to cup the back of her neck, holding her against him (not that she was planning on going anywhere)

"He's no good. I don't want her getting hurt."

Letty shrugs. She didn't like the boy much either, but Mia was charmed by him (and how harmful could a kid who spent his Friday nights wreaking havoc at a _mall _with his buddies be? She'd hate to see Dom's reaction if-or _when_-Mia found herself a racer that caught her eye)

"And then, like every other human being on this planet, she will learn. You can't do it for her."

He frowns, working his lips and tensing his jaw and finally letting his gaze drop to her. All brown-eyed and fierce, cutting through his horseshit with a quirk of her eyebrow, twists her lips a little and he sighs deeply before deadpanning.

"I should apologize." She knows better than anyone how much he hates it, but at this point Mia stubbornness outweighed his own (and if he didn't want any more kitchen appliances hurled his way, he knew it was best to make nice with her before she had time to sleep on it)

She squeezes then, fingers brushing down his arm and shakes her head. "Better let me damage control."

It's a bit of a chore to for her untangle from him (and he doesn't make it particularly easy) His other arm had snuck around her and his hand on her neck still anchored her between him and the counter. She makes a noise of frustration, then turns her head and bites his nipple hard through the fabric of his wife beater. He jumps with a yelp, like she knew he would, and she ducks under his arms and hightails it up the stairs before he could reclaim his grip on her. She doesn't even spare a glance for the look she knew he'd be throwing at her back, lets her laughter echo down to him. He hears her persistent rap on Mia's door upstairs, hears her bully her way in, hears the snick of the door behind her (He knew she was used to playing mediator between the Toretto siblings. Mia, despite how she sometimes pretended otherwise, actually respected and valued Letty's opinion. And Dom, well, as much as Dom didn't always _want _to, listened to her as well. Mostly because he knew that she was normally the level-headed voice of reason-which wasn't exactly saying much when two hot-headed Torettos were involved-but also because he knew his chances for getting laid decreased at the same rate that he ignored her)

Letty comes downstairs a while later, her eyes all bright and warm and her cheeks flushed with amusement. He hasn't moved much (flung open a few counters looking for strawberry jelly, chomped on his toast and chugged a glass of milk before pacing around, not knowing what to do with himself besides rearrange the refrigerator magnets a few dozen times)

She passes him up, perches up on the counter. Her bare toes press into his shin as she crosses her arms, a smirk playing across her lips. "It's all good. Guy was a slime ball, she spent the night at Raquel's. Bet ya feel dumb now, huh?"

He doesn't say anything though, doesn't respond to her teasing. Just lets his thumbs brush her warm cheekbones, his fingers curling around the back of her head as he leans into her. Her legs lock him into place behind him, her arms coming around his neck as she tilts her head at him and raises an eyebrow.

"What would you do without me?"

A ghost of a smile flits across his face for just a moment before he presses his mouth to hers, latching onto her lower lip immediately. He worries it between his teeth for a moment before releasing it with a pop, only for a moment before going back in. It's ever so light, slow, easy. So not them and yet _them _in every way. She (impatiently) tries to lick in further, but Dom pulls back just enough to not let her, every single goddamn time. He keeps his hands cradling her face, even as hers roam from his neck down his chest and to the waistband of his jeans. He drops his right hand from her then, down to catch her left one and pins it to the counter beside her. She's getting annoyed and he can _feel _it in the way she nips at him, and he goes in deep for just a moment before pulling his lips away completely, dropping his forehead to her shoulder.

Her hand comes up to the back of his neck, rubbing against the soft skin with her fingertips. He exhales slowly, letting his lips brush the juncture where her collar bone meets her shoulder. He sucks there briefly, her fingers pushing into his neck. He resists though, rubbing his cheek there before letting his lips ghost her ear, trailing ever so slowly down her jaw line, nipping her chin when he finally makes it there. She's biting her lip, a half-assed effort to staunch any noises she's liable to make when Dom gets really focused like this.

Her hand's still on the back of his head, her fingers twitching restlessly. She knows better than to rush him, but that doesn't stop her from letting him know exactly how frustrated she is with the pace he's favoring. He smiles again, another brief twitch that gets her heart pounding even harder. His thumb gently pulls her bottom lip from her teeth, and he dips his head to lick softly. "Love you." He whispers into her, hardly moving his lips as he brushes his thumb under her eye. She hitches against him, her hand squeezing at his elbow.

If she hadn't been so finely tuned to him, ears always perked up for whatever confessions dropped out of him sometimes, she probably would have missed it. But she heard him, tries her hardest not to bust into a huge grin and instead buries her head in his neck and nods, bites her lip to stifle the smile just _begging _to break free (and if Dom hadn't been as equally attuned to her, he'd have missed her breathless _you'd better _as she sunk her teeth into his skin, feeling her smile as he cupped the back of her head)

They decide going any further in their current location would be just asking for trouble, considering Vince had the nasty habit of having completely shitty timing (and being found by _Vince _with Dom's head between her thighs was so, _so_ incredibly low on Letty's wish list she didn't even protest his slow halting of movement) so he pulls her off the counter by her thighs and sets her gently on the floor, brushing his nose against hers before turning to lead her from the room. His eyes land on the damn toaster and he pauses, his free hand rubbing the top of his head as it shook slowly.

"I can't believe she threw the fucking toaster."

She laughs then, loud and exuberant, squeezing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs.

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	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I promise these won't all be "Letty gets pissed at Dom" chapters, but this one I've had for a while, and well, figured I might as well post it even though it feels a little ramble-y I also apparently attend one of the few unis here that don't have the day off, so brighten my mood while I'm in lectures for 8 hours and review? **

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He works to impress her.

He blames that little asshole, Oliver Callaghan or Owen Collins or _something_, something clean-cut and proper like he spent his weekends out at the country club.

Never mind the fact that Letty was currently avoiding him like the plague, it was far easier to hate _whatever his damn name was_ then own up to his own current state of assholery.

Either way, he loathes rich white boy, with his fancy foreign car and deep pockets. For _weeks_ he has Letty tinkering around with his wheels, sometimes lingering around to watch her and ask questions about what she's doing. He's actually impressed, that much is obvious. Dom knows that Letty isn't the typical grease monkey one would expect to find in a garage like Toretto's and pretty boy knows it too.

Dom feels a bit jealous (although he'd be damned if he'd admit it)

He and Letty had been working on _them _for months (before his being-an-asshole thing, at least). Sorting out the attraction they'd known was there but had refused to acknowledge previously.

He even remembers the first time he saw her. A skinny little thing. Small, especially for nine, peeking around the side of the garage as he and his father worked. He'd scowled at her (he was on the cusp of 13, and all little girls were pests in his mind. He'd had _Mia_, after all), told her to buzz off even as Tony Toretto waved the shy girl inside. For being as young as she was, she knew her way around a garage. Even answered a few questions he himself couldn't. He'd frowned deeply, irritated at the heat and the damp curls stuck to the back of his net and his aching arms and this little girl who was now somehow elbows deep in his project with his father.

Her brother, Ramon (Junior) came looking for her a few hours later, scolding her for being out past sundown alone, yanked her under his much larger arm. RJ's annoyance had dissipated when he got a good look at the Charger in the garage though, and he had shot a knowing look down at his little sister.

"Ticy here has a thing for cars." He explained. Little Letty scowled at the nickname, but perked up when Tony offered RJ a job, eyes glimmering with excitement when Tony winked her way.

Sixteen year old RJ started working at the garage, and his baby sister was never too far behind. He wasn't even vexed by her presence like Dom was of Mia's (the seven year old much preferred playing with their neighbor's daughter, Raquel, to the garage, but that didn't mean she didn't spend her fair share of time hanging around either. And despite her tomboyishness, Letty'd also taken a liking to Mia. Even though the youngest Toretto was nearly two years her junior, Letty always popped in the house to greet her first thing)

One night in early June, just before school let out for the summer, Dom poked his head in the garage to find his father and RJ deep on conversation. Letty's bare feet stuck out from the backseat of the Charger, fast asleep, her curls piled on top of RJ's dirty sweatshirt.

He'd celebrated his birthday by joining the army. Had sworn in and everything, left for basic training in two months.

The day before RJ left for basic training, Tony Toretto threw a huge barbecue When the sun started to set and the music grew louder, girls flocked anxiously to him for one last dance with the handsome young Dominican. He brushed them all off, instead pulling Letty up from her chair and dragging her into dance after dance after dance. She'd pouted at first, as he forced her into silly twirls and dips but she was soon beaming, relishing in the attention of her big brother and the music taking over the hot summer night.

_"Take care of Leticia, you hear?"_ Letty was eleven, had proved herself to be more than capable of handling herself (well, at least around school bullies…if Dom had a dollar for every time RJ had to pick her up from outside the principal's office, little hands clenched in tight fists, he'd have enough money for that new video game and some) but RJ's brow still furrowed as he spoke to Dominic, glancing over at the 6th grader as she combed the tangles from Mia's hair on the porch.

_"They all underestimate her bad, but she ain't always gonna be able to knock 'em down on her own."_

Dom had nodded though, and RJ had ruffled his short curls and nodded back. He'd gone up to the porch, squeezed Mia in one last hug before pulling Letty onto his back, her skinny limbs holding on tight as he bounced on the sidewalk, stomping on every crack along the way.

Neither Ortiz spoke about their family (besides each other, of course) but he'd overheard his father and a friend discussing the specifics. RJ was Carmen Ortiz's son with another man, her high school sweetheart. Years later, when the elder Ramon Ortiz had discovered that the boy was not his, he'd beaten Carmen half to death in front of 11 year old RJ and 4 year old Letty. He'd disappeared that night for good, only to be heard from by a yearly birthday card (that Letty always threw straight into the trash). Carmen had turned to the drink, choosing to ignore the son she put the blame on and the daughter who had her father's eyes.

On Christmas Eve, a year and a half later, Dom peeked into Mia's room to insure that she was sleeping as his father took a phone call, found Letty squeezed into bed with her.

Tony came up the stairs behind his son, his voice low and sad as he told Dom the news. Ramon Ortiz Junior had been killed overseas. He pretended not to be phased when two girls came down the stairs the next morning, teasing them both equally and earning himself a small smile (hidden behind her hands) from Letty. He didn't know why he felt so proud for lightening her mood, but the shit-eating grin he'd had earned him a strange look from his father (who even had a present for her, her own set of tools to use at the garage, wrapped neatly under the tree with all of Dom's and Mia's)

And contrary to what many believed, teenage Letty didn't moon over Dom. Every once in a while, though, he'd catch her watching him intently, averting her eyes whenever he managed to catch her at it. Grease under her fingernails, tangled curls pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, dog tags sticking to her sweat, and boxers pulled up and pants slung low.

Her mother overdosed on pills and vodka when she was fifteen and she spent the rest of the year, all the way past her sixteenth birthday with her cousins in the DR (and it was under the warm Boca de Yuma sun she'd shed the baby weight and gained a few inches and plenty of muscle)

When she arrived home, she caught Dom's eye immediately. But the childish crush she'd once held was gone. They bickered more often than not, which usually ended with Mia trying to play mediator and Tony smirking knowingly behind their backs. But before he could even think about seriously pursuing her, Kenny Linder clipped his father's bumper and everything went straight to hell.

He could still feel the torque wrench in his hand when he knocked on Letty's door. He had blood and grease under his fingernails and he knew he must look terrifying, but she wrapped him up anyways. And at once, he felt centered. There was nothing but her breath on his shoulder and her heartbeat pounding because she _knew _something is wrong (beyond the obvious that his father was _dead_)

And it's two years before he sees her in the real world again, and the changes are even more striking. It's all normal at the garage, same wifebeater and cargo pants and boots. But when he goes to his first race, she's running shit. She's popping beers with Vince and shoving wads of cash down her shirt and has her brother's car painted a shade of magenta that would've had him rolling his eyes in pain and it's all so un-_Letty_ but so very her at the same time. He can't look away.

And when she kisses him after kicking his ass at some James Bond game she'd dug out for the old Nintendo 64 he isn't all that surprised. Then, making out on the couch and on the hood of her car and in the back room at Toretto's and everywhere in between.

One day in June, though, he fucks it all up. Gets so caught up in the garage and races and forgets it's RJ's birthday, bitches at her all day for her absent-mindedness. Then, after Mia calls him an asshole and reminds him, races her that night and eases his foot off the gas just before the finish. He barely ducks her swing as she gets out of the car, and Vince scoops her up and carries her over to Mia and they both work hard to calm her down.

He's not even sure what they _are_ to each other but suddenly she won't even acknowledge his presence. And then, enter pretty boy. And yeah, he's pretty damn jealous. Because she's smiling and laughing at his corny jokes and blushing when he compliments her for the way she knows her shit and doesn't even give him too much grief about the car. He eventually disappears, but is sure to leave Letty with his number and by her blush, a little more than that as well.

When he asks Mia, she just shakes her head. "I'd tell you that you need to learn a lot about women, but I think you've done enough learning for a few lifetimes. What you need to do is learn a lot more about _Letty_. She isn't a little girl anymore."

And that was the problem. He'd been treating her like they weren't grown adults, trying to appease her like she was a child (like she was _ever_ a kid who didn't know when someone was letting her win)

So. He tries something new.

Buys her flowers. Buys her a Hershey bar, gives it to her with a sheepish grin because it melted in the oppressive heat of the garage. She can't help smiling then, a bit of an eye roll and she wets her lips before taking it from him. She makes a face as her fingers sink into it, and he tries not to laugh at her scrunched up nose.

"You can put it in the fridge."

"Yeah…thanks" She smiles over her shoulder at him, holding it between two fingers and walking to the back room.

But he's trying. He's so focused on winning her back that he hardly has time for anything but. Vince is annoyed with him, tells him just as much over a beer and video game. He only shrugs in response.

She's pissed as hell, that much he knows. But as much as she tries to ignore him, he can still hear the hitch of her breath when he gets too close.

He convinces her to go on a date with him. A real one, with a suit and a tie and everything. Mia convinces her to wear a pair of her too-big heels and a dress. She slips the heels off as soon as they sit down, her bare toes pressing to the tops of his shoes as they eat. He can't stop tugging his tie, he hasn't worn one since his father's funeral and Mia tied it a bit too tight around his neck. He clears his throat nervously, everything he wanted to say to her getting caught up in the stupid remarks about the waiter's constipated expression and soon they're playing a game. Letty picks a table of fellow diners, and he spins a story worthy of a telenovela about their lives and soon she's red-faced and laughing (snorting, even) around mouthfuls of souffle.

He feels nervous, more nervous than he should, really. Because it's _Letty_, the girl who could beat all of the guys in a belching contest and still held the school record for pull-ups and let Mia paint her toes hot pink when she was stressed from studying.

But as she spins the spoon in her mouth (in the quirky way that she does, puts the ice cream on the bottom, licks it off, turns it over in her mouth and sucks before going in for another spoonful) it all feels so familiar, just her and him and being themselves even outside of their comfort zone.

She smiles at him shyly, the table seemingly putting miles between them. Her hand taps a rhythm next to the silverware. His hand darts out to still hers, fingers curl around her palm. Her eyes drop to their hands, her warm brown under his deep tanned, the grease under both of their bitten-down fingernails. His hands nearly twice the size of hers, so powerful but brushing lightly against her skin. And so out of place against the fancy white tablecloths.

"Let's get outta here, yeah?"

He's all too happy to follow her. She doesn't even slip her heels back on, Dom loops one finger through their straps and the other hand rests lightly on her back.

They make it back to the Toretto house without much fuss, but she's out of his car and into her own before he knows what hit him. Rolls her window down with a smirk, leans her elbow against the edge. Her challenge is clear, and he smirks back and shakes his head as he restarts his engine.

(She'd dropped out of high school right after he went to prison, getting her GED just before her 17th birthday and dividing her time between the garage and making sure Mia was okay and racing for rolls of crumpled ones and bragging rights with Vince. He didn't want to admit it, but when he'd eased off the gas all those weeks ago, he hadn't been exactly sure he would win anyways)

The hot summer day had turned into a hot and muggy night and he kind of hated Mia for the suit, but the rush of wind and the purple of her car in the corner of his eye makes him feel like maybe all the fuss was totally worth it.

"You take your foot off the gas again and I'll kick your ass, tough guy." She glances over at him once they've stopped, and he knows she means every word.

He fixes his eye on the railroad crossing in the distance, the familiar strip of road stretching in front of him. He nods in agreement. "What are we racing for?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." He barely catches her smirk as she turns her head forward, laughs lowly in response.

The light turns green, and they're off.

She edges him out, just at the end, a brilliant smile on her face by the time they've stopped. He rolls his eyes, not quite able to be angry at her for beating him, fair and square. (the fact that she launches herself from the car afterwards like a bat out of hell, victorious and hot as hell for him doesn't hurt either)

"I love you."

She rolls her eyes, kisses him square on the mouth. "Yeah, _pendejo_. Let's go home."

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	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Of course, the Superbowl trailer only leads to more questions. Which will hopefully be answered when we get the full trailer tomorrow. And, well, I figured I might as well post this as it's bee sitting on my computer for days now. Hope you enjoy! I don't like begging for reviews, but I do love reading what people think (good or bad) so if you feel like it, you know what to do.**

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He's fairly certain she's asleep.

Curled up, right next to him. Practically on top of him, even. Her warm breath even and light against his collarbone.

She's such a light sleeper. A side effect of years of listening carefully for any footsteps in the hallway, any creaks in the door. He counts her breaths, measures the space in between, studies the way her dark eyelashes flutter against her warm skin. He's an expert in all things Leticia Ortiz. And he's damn proud of it.

He knew today had been a long day, for her especially. His grandmother's 90th birthday. He hadn't seen that much of his family since his father's funeral, and then it had been all about mourning. Today, they had celebrated life. And Nonna Toretto wasn't short of it.

Still lived alone and tended her garden with care, had become notorious in the neighborhood to give a good whacking to any wannabe-hoodlum who stepped in her path.

Letty hated these family events of his. They made her anxious, her usually fearless personality turned shy and nervous.

By comparison, Mia was a complete tomboy when it came to the rest of the Toretto cousins. Letty herself, well, she was well-aware of their disdainful feelings towards her, her lifestyle, her wardrobe and well, _her_.

But she did it for Dom. Sucked up her pride, slipped into some gladiator sandals, a burnt orange skirt and a knotted purple top. A gold tasseled belt covered most of the exposed strip of her stomach, but a small triangular patch still escaped, glowing against the bright colors.

She was beautiful.

Of course, Dom always thought she was. In coveralls and a wife beater smeared with grease, sweaty and warm underneath him in bed, in pretty outfits that made her squirm.

Dom had been immediately pulled away though. The garage and the store kept him busy, and his aunts and grandmother seemed to always feel deprived of their handsome young _tesoro_.

Mia had clutched onto her hand, though. Not even releasing it when they were pouring (probably spiked, thanks to his _zio_) punch, and for that Dom was grateful.

She hated small talk. At least, with strangers (not that the extended Toretto family were _strangers _per se, but she was pretty fucking clueless when left to her own devices around people who's knowledge of cars consisted on which one they owned and how to drive it within the confines of the law)

But the girl could dance. And after the alcohol started flowing amongst the older relatives and the sugar highs kicked amongst the younger ones, she made the rounds. Pulled his 8 year old cousin, Benny, out of his seat. His big brown eyes were huge as he looked up at the woman clutching his hands and seemed awestruck. Let his old uncle swing her around like he was a young man again.

For a woman who was so jumpy when confronted with the idea of kids, she sure knew how to work them. Get them dancing around her in a circle and giggling and bouncing and looking at her like she hung the moon. Spinning the girls under her arms and letting the boys reach on their tiptoes to spin her and linking arms with them all as they dominated the dance floor.

She was goddamn beautiful and he couldn't stop watching her.

"So, when you gonna marry that girl?" His uncle asked, patting him on the back and slowly easing into the chair next to him.

"_Zio_." Dom greeted him warmly, grasping his wrinkled hand to make the descent easier.

"Don't ignore me, Dominic." His uncle warned, a wide smile crinkling up his face, "Your aunt may be long gone," he continued, "But I remember the way I looked at her like it was yesterday so don't even try to deny it."

Dom didn't. His eyes drifted back to the grass, where Sara and Julia had attached themselves to Letty's arms as she helped them move through the upbeat tempo. The minutes dragged on and the children slowly tapered off, to snack or rest their heads on the tables before their parents shuttled them away. Letty moved to the side for a moment before Mia swooped in, dragged her back to the middle.

"Girls like her don't wait around forever." The older man advised, watching with a warm smile the way she and Mia were picking at each other, laughing and dancing to a slower salsa. "I know exactly what you kids do at night. And you can't have the best of both worlds, Dominic. You can't have _all _the ladies and _that _one."

Dom shifted uncomfortably. He knew very well that his uncle had been a playboy in his day. Had the girls chasing him, had everyone's adoration. Had pushed his future wife so far she'd moved halfway across the country before he'd seen the proverbial light and shaped up.

His uncle eyed him for a few more moments and nodded slowly, allowing Dom to stand up and he made his way through the zigzag of tables into the open grass area, bee lining to where Mia and Letty were.

"Mind if I cut in?" he raised an eyebrow at his sister, who recognized it as not so much a question, but as an order to scram. Mia smirked and acquiesced, backing away with a smug look on her face.

His hands engulfed her small ones, and he squeezed gently before speaking. "Hey."

"Hey." Letty parroted back, and he finally got a good look at her. Face flushed, eyes sparkling,

She kissed his chin, licking her lips as she pulled back.

He linked his hands together at her back. "You've made quite an impression on my uncle, yet again." He teased her. At every family event, _Zio_ managed to flirt with her and steal a dance.

Letty grinned into his shoulder. "He 'minds me of a certain handsome man-child I know."

He dropped his hand down to pinch her ass, cupping it momentarily as she shrieked in protest before returning his hand to a more proper area.

"They hate me."

Dom chuckled into her hair. "Well, I never said they were particularly _smart_."

She smacked his shoulder lightly. It really did bother her that the girls Dom had grown up with couldn't seem to stand her, and Dom just brushed it off like ti was no big deal. "I'm being serious."

"So am I…listen to me, baby. I don't give a shit what they think. What any of them think. They're not important."

"But they're your family." She said softly, tilting her head up to look at him.

"_You're_ my family." He said it confidently, like it was a simple fact of life. She was his family. He didn't give two shits what his snooty cousins thought of her and didn't want her to either.

She rested her forehead against his shoulder and he kissed her head softly. "Love you." she whispered, pressing her lips to the fabric that rested over his heart.

He hummed in response, squeezed her hip and pulled back to brush the hair that fell in her face.

She said it even less often than him, often surprised him with it. He knew she was scared, even more afraid of the _intensity_ of them than he was. But even though they both knew how they felt about each other, her raspy voice saying the words gave him the most indescribable feeling.

"Gonna marry you one day."

He couldn't see her face, but she raised an eyebrow at his words. "Are you, now?"

"Yep." Again with the confidence. It was a simple fact of life.

"Awfully sure of yourself, Mr. Toretto."

It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. "You plan on saying no?"

He felt, rather than saw, her smile against his shoulder. "Maybe."

He pinched her ass again and she let out a full-on laugh, dipping her head back to catch his lips with hers.

And they'd bullshitted for a few more hours with his family, chatted away about work and told anecdotes, quietly stealing kisses whenever they could.

She slept soundly now. He knew her sleep was much better when she was with him, knew that long before they became a _them_. Back when she'd crawl through the window and tiptoe through the Toretto house in the dark, fresh bruises and fiery eyes. He always could sense when she was there, she walked differently than Mia or his father, and his ears had been attuned to her gait from the start.

She was all his. Every beautiful, stubborn, passionate inch of her. And he was hers. And one day, he hoped, they'd have a lot more than a queen-sized bed in the house he grew up in, cars in the garage and a store without air conditioning.

Letty shifts slightly in her sleep, her brow furrows. His hand comes to her face, his thumb gently smoothing the line down her forehead, gently soothes her. She relaxes and burrows into him, tucking her legs between his and sliding to fit against his chest. He moves his arms to hold her there, kisses her head. "Love you, too."

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End file.
